Six Times Cristina Could Have Told Owen About Burk
by Angelamermaid
Summary: Five vignettes in the past, one that could still happen


_The night they met_

Major Owen Hunt directs Cristina to hold the compress over her wound, while he gathers the materials needed to close it.

"Is there anyone who can drive you home?" he asks.

"My friend Meredith, you met her earlier."

He raises an eyebrow. "No – male friends?"

She smirks. "No, the last 'male friend' left me at the church. He's long gone."

Owen reappears in her field of vision, frowning. "Left you at the church? Were you -"

"-there for our wedding? Yes. Until he realized I wasn't up to his standards, not quite yet."

Owen scoffs. "Sounds like a jerk."

"Yes." Cristina smiles softly, watching the red-haired man lay out his supplies._ Why did I just blurt out that stuff about Burke? _She wonders if he has a 'lady friend' waiting for him somewhere.

-*-*-*-

_His second day_

Dr Hunt looks up questioningly as Cristina Yang joins him at his table in the cafeteria. "Dr Yang?"

"Dr Hunt." She unwraps her sandwich. "How is Seattle Grace treating you so far?"

"Not bad," he shrugs. "Is that resident still mad at me?"

"Izzie? Yes. But she'll find a new cause tomorrow."

"Should you be seen eating with me?" He looks at her with piercing blue eyes.

Cristina shrugs. "It's just lunch. Everyone knows I'm never getting involved with an attending again."

He tilts his head curiously and chews.

"I was involved with the former Head of Cardio last year. It ended badly and publicly. So, Dr Hunt, I'm eating lunch with you because you're new and looked lonely. Your body is most definitely safe from me."

He chuckles then, a warm sound that makes her toes curl unexpectedly. "Okay then."

-*-*-*-

_On the vent_

They're kissing and it's glorious. Finally, they're together in a moment where they can be free to be themselves, to give into the heat that's been hovering between them. He cradles her head with one hand, while the other rubs her lower back. Her hands grip his waist, then run up his chest. _What is under these scrubs?_ she wonders, feeling nothing but muscles. She starts tugging at his top, curious to find out.

His hands gently grip her wrists. "Not here," he mutters. "Not now. No quickies."

She sighs. "Why not?"

Another breeze shoots up. He tucks her hair behind her ears and leans in close, speaking low. "I'm going to take my time with you, that's why. You deserve far more than something quick and dirty in a boiler room."

Tears come to her eyes as she stares up at him.

"Hey, he smiles softly "I didn't mean to make you cry." His hands caress her face and he kisses her softly.

"What's wrong?" He's starting to look concerned, like he has done something wrong.

"I got dumped a few months ago," she stammers. "Dumped at our wedding, the bastard."

Owen absorbs her words, still caressing her face.

"And now I'm whole again," she mutters, looking down quickly before she grabs his face, kisses him hard, wanting to show him how special he is, how much he means to her.

-*-*-*-

_The morning after - in her apartment_

Cristina is sitting in the chair at the foot of her bed, watching Owen sleep. She eyes him warily. _What have I gotten myself into?_

He starts to stir. Her instinct is to stand up and run, but she stays seated. "Good morning."

He sits straight up, blinking, bewildered. "Wha?"

She crosses her arms. "You're in my bed, Owen."

He peers at her, confused.

"You showed up drunk last night," she explains.

He winces as he starts to remember. "Oh shit. I'm sorry. _Oh shit!_"

She leans back in the chair, arms still crossed defensively.

"I – I will make this up to you," he declares, still trying to gather his wits.

"You said that last night," she notes coolly.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"Your clothes are in the bathroom," she says, standing up. "Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. I'm going to tell you about the last guy before you and why I want better than last night." She walks out of the room.

-*-*-*-

_The morning after – in the on call room _

They slowly wake up together in the on call room, Owen still laying on her stomach, arms wrapped around her. She smiles softly, ruffles his red hair as he blinks. "Best damn sleep I've had in weeks," he yawns.

He kisses her then sighs, leans against her. "I suppose you're wondering what set me off last night," he mumbles.

She shrugs. "Tell me when you're ready to."

"I'll never find the right time," he says. "I saw my ex-fiancee in the hallway behind you."

She listens as he tells her about Beth. He looks up at her nervously.

"I have an ex-fiance too," she tells him. He listens as she tells him about Burke.

-*-*-*-

_His office_

Cristina knocks on the open door of Owen's office. He looks up, acknowledges her with a soft smile.

"Hey there now," she smiles back, handing him a file. She closes the door and sits down. She draws in a deep breath.

"I don't like churches," she begins abruptly. "I never know what to do or say if it isn't a Jewish service. And, the last time I was in a church, I was wearing a wedding gown and I had no eyebrows."

She glances at him. He looks very confused.

"I see the hospital gossip still hasn't reached you," she mutters.

"I don't give a damn about gossip," he says quietly. "Did you say you were wearing a wedding gown?"

She nods. She takes another deep breath and tells him the rest of the story.

When she finishes, he's holding her hands and looking at her with warm blue eyes. "So that's why you don't like churches."

She nods. "And – Meredith and Derek have moved up the wedding and I don't have a date and would you be my date for the wedding? Because I don't like churches."

His mouth twitches. "Yes, I will. To help with the church thing."

She smiles brightly. He sees right through her and she doesn't give a damn. "Take care now."


End file.
